As You Wish, Harry, As You Wish
by yuucchin
Summary: "Harry, do you love me, now?" was what he wanted to ask in the end, for the very last time, when he finally couldn't go any further to try and wish for something more. He knew though, he knew the answer just too well for his own liking. [Bottom!Draco]
1. Chapter 1

**As You Wish, Harry, As You Wish.**

 **By yuucchin**

 **Disclaimer: I took no profit over the characters and song used. They aren't mine. The idea of the fic, though, it was mine.**

 **Summary:**

"Harry, do you love me, now?" was what he wanted to ask in the end, for the very last time, when he finally couldn't go any further to try and wish for something more. He knew though, he knew the answer just too well for his own liking.

 **Rated: T (for now)**

 **Warning:**

 **Experimental writing.**

 **SLASH**. Men intercourse, though not graphic at all, I assure you. Bad language. **HP/DM** , which means that Harry was the person in charge, and probably a bit of Harry and Ginny bashing in the beginning (due to angst of one Draco Malfoy). **OOC**. And then, grammatical errors that can always be found every here and there. I'm so sorry -_-v

* * *

 _[Forgive me I couldn't understand why you were angry,_

 _couldn't read, couldn't understand your heart]_

* * *

They both stood there, in the hallway full of over-excited-and-expectant looks from the Gryffindors and pointed looks from the lots of Slytherins, they stood and held their own ground with eyes glaring daggers into each other skulls. The silence and tension built around them had risen up menacingly. But they, they didn't speak, not even a _fucking_ word was uttered. They just stared with mixed feelings of hatred, disgust, disappointment, amusement, and… probably lust on Draco's side only, though.

Both boys refused to lessen the tension until Draco— _unwillingly of course, but it couldn't be helped, right? He was so desperately in love with the other boy that he would even be willing to sacrifice almost everything for the said boy_ —reverted his gaze to his side, letting an angry huff into the air while he was detaining his left cheek that was burning like hell. Correction, the whole face felt like bloody pulp. Well, it was bloody, anyway. Most of the blood had dried though.

That was when the crowd that had been holding back their breaths turned into hell broken loose.

 _"_ _The ferret gave up!"_

Soon some satisfied and mocking laughter could be heard echoing through the hundreds-years-old walls, deafening Draco's ears with embarrassment that he had learned to hide so damn well by years of experiences.

"50 points from Gryffindor and Slytherin," a loud voice came from Draco's back, gradually alleviating the crowd, and the students made a way for this source of promising-detention-voice. Draco took a quick glance from the end of his right eye, and saw that Headmistress McGonnagal was striding closer to the both of post-fighting boys, her head was held high with stabbing eyes. Then when she was only a feet away from them, she said with stern voice, "each."

She observed the boys state; disheveled uniforms, some bruises and blood on each other face—probably a dislocated jaw for Malfoy, a broken nose for Potter and… well, thank Merlin, Potter's vintage glasses were not harmed. Malfoy's usually sleek hair was nowhere near tidy. To summarize, both of these had-yet-to-grown-up-men were in a total mess.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, detention on Saturday, at 8 in the morning. Sharp. Don't be late, or I'll be even more than willing to take more points from you, _gentlemen_. Mr. Malfoy please go to Pomfrey. Now, Mr. Potter, you follow me."

Draco shot a death glare to those still over-joyed Gryffindorks before turning his back to Potter and walking away, ignoring the unreadable message that Potter sent to him, before Potter himself followed the headmistress to her office.

He didn't even bother to cast some hexes toward the had-not-scrammed-yet laughing group as he walked over, knocking some of those stupid lion minions' shoulders intentionally.

He was just too…

Angry.

* * *

Potter shoved him up to the wall, having Draco pinned up to it with no escapes. Potter hold Draco's shirt collar so tightly that Draco feared the Dark Lord Vanquisher might strangle him to death. Draco could see the indignant look Potter gave to him. All he did was just wondering. _Why?_

Then Potter hissed sternly, almost felt like with _only_ his words he could just pierce into Draco's heart as if a sharp knife would.

"What the fuck did you do to Ginny, you fucking scumbag?!"

So thick with disgust, so full of animosity.

Draco ransacked his brain furiously, trying very hard to remember what the hell that he had indeed done to that ginger whore that could get Harry ended up strangling him to the inches of his life. Draco just couldn't recall anything.

And that the fear of Potter might just finish him off was apparent. _He is a very irrational and crude watch dog of that dog_ , _I forgot_. Draco mentally chuckled as the irony struck him hard. _If only he would do the same for me_.

Hadn't gotten any answer from the pale boy he pinned, he asked once more, even more acidic than before.

"The. Fuck. You. Did. To. Her. Malfoy?"

"I don't talk inanity, Potter."

And there the bare fist of the Great and Glorious Harry Potter landed on his cheek, right below his left eyes. The physical pain was no joke, but his heart took more damage.

"That was for saying Ginny a cheap slut."

Draco gathered up himself and while he was aware, despite the fact that he was slightly trembling due to the sudden pain and fear of Harry decided breaking the whole of his heart _this time_ , he retorted to Potter his real opinion.

"What should I say then? A walking pest that flaunt her horrific whore-ness to gain cheap popularity? Pity, Potter. I thought you—"

Draco never got to finish the sentence as Harry angrily punched him again, in the same fucking spot. This time a bit rougher, Draco's back hit the wall and from the sound of it, that was quite a troublesome pain to be looked afterward.

Draco cringed.

And almost shed a tear from the pain that shot throughout his spine.

"You thought you were a better person than her? Than the rest of the world?" Potter asked with his chafed voice, his nose was flaring like he _could_ really produce fire.

" _Are_ , Potter. Yes, aren't I better than you lot, bundle of blood traitors and mudbloods?"

Draco tried to hide his hoarse voice by holding up his chin and putting on his trademark smirk which he had schooled for years to damn perfection and looked into Potter's green eyes defiantly. He refused to make himself appearing more foolish and pathetic in front of Potter. It was enough to have Potter secretly being his Achilles' feet. He didn't have to see Potter triumphantly announcing to the universe that Draco Lucius Malfoy— _the scumbag ex-death eater_ —would be more than eager to be fucked senseless by his own sworn-enemy Harry James Potter, savior of wizarding world.

He would have none of it. Hence, if he needed to say things that he did not mean to save his face, so be it.

Potter's face turned sourer and with ever-so-slightly-sad-and-disappointed look he told Draco, "I thought after the war back then, you would change, you would learn."

Slowly by leaning to the wall, Draco tried to stand up once again, never once lost his eyes on Potter. He stared firmer into those wonderful green orbs, and whispered.

"I've changed," and before Potter could retort back Draco continued, "you just… it was none of your business, Potter." _Harry_.

"Yeah, right. Now that you are an ex-death eater, you are also a pompous git who has no dignity of being grateful to people who helped your survival. I don't remember you saying any word near thanks or—God forbid, _sorry_ to anyone. I see you still haven't lost some traits that your scumbag of a death eater father possessed, too, has you not?"

Draco clenched his fist, and before he realized it, he punched Potter's nose, mistakenly. He initially aimed it to Potter's jaw, but the sodding prick saw the fist was flying to him and tried to duck the coming fist, yet he missed a second or so—or, maybe just because he was slightly sympathetic to Draco so, he let the fist landed on him. _Some compassion_.

"Don't you dare to talk about my father, Potter! And, before your poor brain can feed your equally poor opinion, I did learn something from the forsaken war. I learned that I still hate you, your bloody-hero-complex, your fuckfriend, and your stupid of a gang. Everything about you!"

Potter could hear that Draco's voice was strained and full of hurt but, his brain and his brawl has its own mind.

And so, started the messiest fight between Draco and his heartthrob for this year—if not the last in forever.

* * *

Angry because he just could not understand Potter.

* * *

 **TBC.**


	2. Chapter 2

_[redeem me, that just barged in to both of your lives_

 _tried to find a way to enter your heart]_

* * *

It was Thursday morning, two days before the scheduled detention, that Draco found himself walking down the corridor to Potion class and saw a silhouette approaching him.

"Hey."

Potter.

 _Harry._

"Malfoy, stop."

Potter grabbed Draco's left arm as he walked past Potter while trying his best to ignore the glasses boy—instead of turning his head and asking Potter a gleeful "what?", because really that's what Draco really wanted— _desired_. Really.

Well, he did ask Potter anyway but, with venom-rich voice.

"What?" he asked scathingly with a look like a snake ready to eat its prey, hopeful that Potter would just be thrown aback and let Draco go his merry way and just leave him alone to wallow about his miserable fate.

"I—I just.."

Potter looked unsure, but his hand stayed where it stayed.

"Let me go," Draco spat. But, Potter's grip was firm still—if not worse for Draco, it got firmer. Realizing that using words wouldn't budge Potter in anyway, Draco decided to pull his arm forcefully out.

It hurt, because Potter looked more determined than ever.

His amazing emerald eyes, for a mere second that felt like an eternity, mesmerized Draco.

"I don't know what you want from me, Potter. But whatever it might be, just… shut it. I have no time to entertain your childish whining after all yesterday's fiasco, and no time to ponder on accepting your apology, if that thought—apologizing to _me_ —has ever cross your mind."

For mere seconds, Potter had the nerve to cast a pitying look on Draco's still aching bruises— _no thanks to Potter_ —and he opened his mouth but then, quick as a lightning, Draco quickly raised his right hand, effectively warning Potter that he should stop himself from letting out whatever in that just-would-not-die boy's mind.

"You should go check on your dear Weaselette and as for me, I shall take my leave. I unfortunately will see you on Saturday."

And just with that Draco left Potter to psychoanalyze his _yet_ to be understood, conflicted desire within his heart by himself in that silent corridor.

* * *

This one particular morning didn't work so well on one young Draco Malfoy. The bruise given by Harry Potter on his left cheek started to ache again. He regretted he didn't take care of this matter sooner. The thudding pain made Draco loses what's left of his willingness to get up and start the day. He would rather lie down, wrap within the warmth and protective blanket of his—never have to think of school; never have to think of Potter.

Draco didn't go to Madam Pomfrey yesterday instead he went straight to the Astronomy Tower. He sat there indefinitely, contemplating the lemon life had given to him until he felt quite drowsy and decided to head back to his room. However, sleep was quite a struggle when his mind was too tired to put the pain on his cheek aside and yet as the moon raised higher, anxiety and the numbness consumed him in the end.

 _The hell with Harry bleeding Potter._

He rolled off his bed and slowly walked to his closet to get his uniform for the day—grumbling all the way to the shower room. Once he finished releasing his morning necessities _which involved a mop of unruly black hair and tantalizing green orbs_ , he put on his uniform and gathered all the stuff he needed for class.

And the cheek started thudding again.

Absentmindedly he decided to see Madam Pomfrey.

But first, he needed to have some breakfast because if he didn't tend his belly sooner, his belly might start a rampant and he really didn't need his stomach to act inappropriately.

* * *

Harry Potter was sitting rather sulkily in front of the Hospital Wing.

Earlier in the morning Ginny had come to him with tears on the corner of her eyes and hands clutched tightly around her stomach. She didn't say anything when Harry asked her what had happened to her while his arms instantly moved to wrap around her trembling figure. She could only manage to sob in Harry's arms. Harry wasted no time and just prince-charmingly picked Ginny up in his arms and brought her to see Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible.

When he arrived at the hospital wing and frantically searching for Madam Pomfrey after putting Ginny on one of the bunks, he saw Malfoy.

The blonde was sitting on the hospital bed. Harry could see a faint bluish mark on Malfoy's cheek. A slight unknown pang in his heart went unnoticed by his conscience. He could see that Malfoy was holding back his scream while Madam Pomfery was so focused on healing the bruise. The bruise made by him. Another pang and his conscience still denied its existence. He most definitely did not felt sorry at all toward the git.

"O-ow. Please go slow. Ow!"

"Stay still, young man. It's your fault you didn't come to me immediately."

"Yeah, I'm sorry but—Ow!"

"Stop moving your face, Mr. Malfoy. Now look this way and no more talking."

It sounded so final that it successfully made Malfoy quiet and stayed still. He feared that if he talks back to Madam Pomfrey, she will do something he will regret later on. Not that Madam Pomfery was in anyway vicious though, but the stern look gleaming in her eyes, you know you would never want to mess with her.

Harry, who has been witnessing the whole scene, decided it's time to clear his mind and fetched Madam Pomfery so she could look at Ginny's condition—as Ginny is still writhing in pain but Harry's mind for a slight time wavered to a certain blonde. That certain blonde serpent who mysteriously always found a way to sly his way into Harry's mind, projecting venomous sinister smirk and _that_ painful look.

 _Another pang, again_.

"Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said as he quickly and yet still carefully maintained his steps so that the echoes wouldn't fill the whole wing.

"Oh! Harry! What's wrong?"

Harry didn't look at Madam Pomfey direction. His eyes were trailing Malfoy's figure as the blonde slowly raising his head. When their eyes met, something inside Harry coiled. He thought that the grayish eyes could captivate him forever because they were _indeed_ captivating. However, it was yet the time for Harry to realize how captivating Malfoy's eyes were.

Feigning a cough and slowly turning his gaze to Madam Pomfrey to wave off the awkwardness, he said, "It's Ginny. She's in pain. Something wrong with her stomach, I guess."

"Well, okay wait, I'm almost finished with Mr. Malfoy here."

"Okay. Please hurry, she looks like she's suffering from a massive stomachache."

Without saying anything more, Madam Pomfrey casted a cooling spell for Malfoy's bruised cheek and then signed Harry to lead her to Ginny. Before completely turning his back on Malfoy, he made a point to glance at Malfoy. Malfoy's head was looking at the other side, with gray eyes full of emptiness, focusing on some point beyond the window of Hogwarts.

All Harry could see was just how lonely Malfoy was—sitting alone on top of the bunk covered with white linen, gazing miserably at the world. But then, Malfoy's blonde hair was shining rather beautifully with the sun covering him with its shine, teasing Harry much to Harry's disappointment. And all to Harry's surprise, all he wanted to do was just envelop Malfoy in his protective warmth and say that _it's okay_ although Harry didn't even know what's wrong with Malfoy to begin with.

"Scram away, Potter."

Harry did just that.

* * *

When the young Malfoy exited the Hospital Wing, for a second he looked at the way Potter being all mother-hen to one Ginerva Weasley while Madam Pomfrey was tending whatever pain suffered by the female Weasley. There was this jealousy sprung in his heart. He wanted to snatch Potter away from Weasley and keep him for himself. He wanted Potter to pamper him. He wanted Potter to spoil him rotten. He wanted Potter to care for him.

He wanted Potter for himself.

But how?

* * *

The common room was only occupied by some insomniac seventh years by the time Draco decided to sit on the couch near the fireplace and tried to read the book he randomly snatched from the stacks on his desk. He opened the book, but his gaze fell deep to the fireplace, hoping that the fire would somehow consume his emptiness. It did nothing of such. Draco felt the couch sunk a bit on his right side, noticing someone sat next to him. _Probably Pansy_ , he thought.

"Draco darling what are you reading?"

"Nothing," he mummed the truth. He simply continued holding on to the opened book without really understanding the words in front of him. His thoughts had gone haywire by the image of Potter baby-ing Weasley and the hurt from harsh rejection by Potter. What could he say, really.

Pansy noticed it though. She sighed before carefully removing the book from Draco's grip and placed it on the empty side of the couch. Pansy held Draco's gaze and he could faintly make out the flickering fire reflecting in her eyes.

"You know, Draco," she started. He tried to guess what she had to say.

"What?"

"Maybe you should… tell Potter the truth—"

"Have you gone mad?" The mere thought itself was so incredulously absurd he had never even thought about it. He might love the prick, but that did not mean he wanted Potter and him to be an item. Well, he admittedly wanted Potter for himself, but it certainly was different from wanting them to openly be a couple. He would rather hurt in silence and have his heart broken from a never declared love than to have his heart actually broken because Potter himself outright rejected his confession. In words and in person. Explicitly.

"But, listen to me. Would there be any more damage it could do to you? As far as we know, he already hates you, Draco. The worst that could happen is just that he may hate you more, but hate is hate. He may have persuaded people to hate you more and make your life a living hell, but we all know how saintly Potter is, so that's off the list. And anyway, your life is no better than a living hell now, so…"

"So… what, Pans?"

Pansy looked calculating for a moment before she abruptly stood up and told Draco to wait up because she needed to take something from her room. Draco meanwhile was sitting in anticipation. Deep down he knew that whatever plan Pansy is having right now will bite them back in the future. Bite him, definitely. He was not sure whether he could bear the repercussion of the plan should it go downhill… but Pansy was right. He was already hated.

Then, while he was still in the middle of his contemplation, Pansy pulled him back from his thoughts.

"Here." She handed him a small vial. Whatever it was, he was sure this potion was illegally obtained… or brewed.

"I know that skeptical look but shut it. We don't need your skepticism now. Here's the brilliant plan. This, what you hold in your hand, is a modified _amortentia._ Not as strong as the regular _amortentia_ , nevertheless it has the same objection: to make someone fall for you romantically. If _amortentia_ makes someone full blown crazy in love, this would only spark the sexual attraction. The person drinking this potion would still be mostly conscience of his own feelings. What I'm saying is, if Potter drinks this, he won't feel like he is in love with you, but he will feel like he needs to fuck you. Immediately. This potion will alter his perception on you from a walking nemesis to a walking sex god. You understand?"

"Are you saying this is an aphrodisiac?" Draco raised his left eyebrow. Looking more skeptical than before.

"It might contain the same ingredient with that and have the similar effect but… no, Draco. No. This is different. I have personally tried both and take my words, they are different."

"You tried it by yourself?"

"I tried it on someone before but that's beside the point—"

"No. No. Pansy. Tell me. Who is this someone?"

"Why are you interested?"

"Because if this _someone_ is someone whose name would not make me bat an eyelash, you would tell me the name. And you would not dismiss it so quickly like that. I know you since we were three, Pans."

"Okay…"

"So, spill. Now. Is it Blaise?"

"God forbid no."

"Pans, don't tell me it's Pot—"

"It's Weasley alright!"

"Weasley… as in, Ronald Weasley?" At this point, Draco did not know which was more worrisome, the fact that he was planning to poison Potter with a sex potion or Pansy possibly causing a disaster by her affair with one Ronald Weasley.

"…Yes? Yes, it's that Weasley. But! It was only for fun. I was only experimenting that time, and I needed to test this potion and he seemed like the best candidate to try this potion on. I clearly know he detest me… so I tried it on him. Long story short, it worked."

Draco sighed and rubbed

"Pansy, you do realize that Weasley _is_ in a relationship with Granger right? Do you realize you might have just broken a relationship if this ever found out?"

"I know, Dray. It's just… it's fun. With him."

"Fuck, Pans. This thing with Weasley is not just a one-time thing, am I right?" and when Pansy looked hesitant to confirm it, he knew.

"We… are casual."

"Fuck, Pans."

"Excuse me? Why are you upset? Are you suddenly jealous of Weasley, now? Are you judging me as a homewrecker?" Pansy was fast to put on her defensive mode and Draco noticed she scooted back with an affronted look on her face.

"No. Pansy, no. That's not it, Pans. Honestly? I wouldn't give a damn who you want to be with, as long as I know that you can take care of yourself. And, no. You are not a homewrecker, Weasley and Granger might be joined in the hips but not legally. So, you are not wrecking any home as far as I am concerned. But this is Weasley we are talking about. The same Weasley that is best friend with Harry Potter and member of golden trio. If Potter ever finds out that his friend is cheating his other friend with his nemesis' friend, and golden trio is broken up… that would certainly crush any hope I have to be on Potter's good side."

"You are being dramatic, Dray. Look, I can handle the situation with Weasley. Whatever happens between me and Weasley, I assure you won't affect your relationship with Potter if there'd be any, other than the fact that you both are not in good terms."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"So… what do I have to do?"

"Tomorrow, asks Potter to have lunch together after the detention. Say you want to apologize—"

"But he is the one who has to apologize first! He bit me to pulp for that slug."

"No, Draco. Listen to me. Let's just make this sort of an apology in advance for you are about to drugged him with a _sort of_ love potion, and you are not telling him that you are drugging him. Okay?" Draco nodded.

"Now let me continue and don't cut me off until I finish explaining." He nodded for the second time.

"So, you ask—no, _insist_ Potter to have lunch with you. Say you want to make amends, considering you both would spend the next merlin knows how many weekends with him in detention. And when the food come, spill the potion in his drink when he is not looking. This is the important part, make sure he looks you in the eye when he drinks that. Aaand, _voila_ , in a matter of minutes the potion would materialize in Potter's mind and all of a sudden, he would be sexually intrigued, to you. After that, it's up to you to put on a show. Potter's already taken the bait."

"Alright. Thanks, Pans."

Pansy smiled brightly afterwards, and he sure felt her sincerity when she gave him a hug and a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"Good luck, my Dragon."

 **TBC.**


End file.
